To my teacher
We were young and carefree,
Wild; never listening.
Try to conduct us to the right, its unmanageable.
Like standing in front of a towering wave,
We’ll flood over you, toppling down;
Your shouts slowly trickling away
With one sweep.
You were firm,
A determined teacher—
But look at us,
Peer through the tiny hole that we open once in a while
And look into our hearts.
If those burning eyes of stubbornness
Don’t steer you away,
Those cracked, dry hearts would.
I remember you once asked us:
“Dare you live your dream? ”
Had you changed us enough to believe;
Have you walked together with us passably to see?
For that day the class was the quietest—
No one had even whispered an answer.
Today, we graduate.
You’ll die if you hear what we want to say.
It’s an endless passage
Essays of no fixed theme
Like drabbles alternating the different shades of reality;
Muddled words with tears.
Four years are already over;
Saying our last goodbyes,
Once again, but much softer, you asked:
“Dare you live your dream? ”
There was still silence,
But this time, it was different.
Some were too shy, some, embarrassed.
You didn’t look into our eyes, teacher.
You didn’t see.
For our black pupils were shining with defiance and determination,
Our message clear:
“We will, sir,
Please, we implore you”,
“Wait and see.”
9th Feb ‘07
poem by Grace Tan
Added by Poetry Lover
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